Tony, 2026.
Directed by Matt Johnson.
Starring Dominic Sessa, Emilia Jones, Leo Woodall, Antonio Banderas, Dagmara Dominczyk, Rich Sommer, Stavros Halkias, Monica Raymund, Liam Fitch, Reece Grover, Allyn Burrows, Caroline Portu, Derek K. Moore, Ava Davey-Bissett, and Michael Jibrin.
SYNOPSIS:
A 19-year-old Anthony Bourdain travels to Provincetown and stumbles into the chaotic world of a restaurant kitchen, setting off a summer that will shape the course of his life.
If director Matt Johnson is making a film about a famous person, three things are all but guaranteed: it won’t be boring or dry, it will resist the temptation to go down a path of clichés, and it won’t sanitize the personality and life of its subject. Case in point, Tony begins with a quote one of Anthony Bourdain’s books, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly (which one could only presume was a critical resource for crafting the screenplay alongside Todd Bartels, Lou Howe, and regular collaborator Matthew Miller) that reads “I was — to be frank — a spoiled, miserable, narcissistic, self-destructive and thoughtless young lout, and badly in need of a good ass-kicking.”
Not only is this such refreshing honesty that certainly translates on-screen in Dominic Sessa’s performance (also with quite a bit in common from his punkish rebellious student in Alexander Payne’s moving Christmastime dramedy The Holdovers), it also goes to show that Matt Johnson is less interested in making movies about the myth, the accomplishments, and the celebrity; his biopics don’t tend to feel like biopics, or at the very least, not traditional ones. No, they are stories that happen to be about real people while homing in on relatable circumstances. Rarely is there the impression that this is a film about Anthony Bourdain, even if we know it is; the surname isn’t even mentioned until the ending.
At 19 years old here, he insists everyone call him Tony. It’s a line of dialogue coming nearly up top that goes a long way in selling the idea that this ordinary young man in the 1970s could have been any of us, and that the flaws, mistakes, challenges, and identity crises he faces are those of someone realistically messy who doesn’t yet know what they are doing with their life. Technically attending Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, NY, Tony has aspirations of being a writer, applying for a fellowship that he tells everyone, including his parents (played by Monica Raymund and Rich Sommer), he was accepted for, even though he BS’ed his way through the application process, hyping up a coming-of-age narrative. He is an entitled individual who often believes he deserves things simply for having ambition, whether it be career opportunities or Nancy Putkowski (Emilia Jones) reciprocating his crush. She is a former high school classmate who shuts him down at a bar, but not without saying he can come find her in Provincetown, Rhode Island, following his fellowship.
With no direction in life, nothing else to do, and a penchant for digging himself further into lies, Tony heads to Provincetown to meet up with Nancy, telling her it’s where the fellowship just happens to take place. At this point, no one could necessarily blame anyone for finding Tony deeply unlikable and somewhat obsessively creepy (before leaving home, he rips her page from his high school yearbook, which contains a sentimental quote from a respected author, and uses it around her to curry favor). He also has nowhere to stay and drunkenly disrespects the owner of a local seaside restaurant named Ciro (Antonio Banderas), who takes pity on him, offering him a place to stay for free as long as he performs dishwashing duties at the loudly chaotic restaurant kitchen, working alongside a motley crew of vulgar and crass characters accurately representing the filterless era (some of these antics admittedly become repetitive after a while, making up most of the middle stretch).
While it’s a comedian such as Stavros Halkias bringing the laughs (playing a character named Stavros, no less) to be expected from anything with Matt Johnson’s involvement, it’s Leo Woodall’s endearingly scuzzy and thickly accented Sal emerging as a standout; he is everything from a seedy wingman comfortable reinforcing the narrative when Nancy becomes skeptical, to a representation of someone darker that Tony could become.
What’s fascinating is that, as the film goes on, Tony (obviously) discovers a skill for cooking, consistently coming across as ashamed of it and frustrated that it’s becoming a distraction for his writing ambitions. One wishes the film explored a bit more why or how he became so insistently determined to become a writer (his mother was a journalist, so a couple of more scenes with them perhaps could have accomplished that), although his rejection of even the mere idea of becoming a chef, not to mention a one-of-a-kind talent, still carries weight all the same.
Fitting for the story being told, it’s only natural that he first entertains the possibility of making this his profession when Nancy, stumbling upon more lies, becomes curious about his cooking (she works nearby at the pizza shop and another seaside stand). With that in mind, one also can’t help but see Tony, for as dramatically engaging a character study as this is, as an amusing companion piece to Matt Johnson’s Nirvanna escapades, with someone trying to get the attention of a crush rather than the music venue The Rivoli. There are also plenty of jokes and even a running gag throughout that are distinctly Matt Johnson, impeccably setting them up for an unexpected punchline down the road. His longtime friend and collaborator, Jay McCarroll, is also here for scoring duties, putting together some beautiful piano melodies mixed with inspired licensed song choices.
Also a smart ass, Tony habitually uses scholarly words in conversation, including Providence, which refers to god beginning to pay attention to someone. Spending the summer in Provincetown, it’s sensible to wordplay that Nancy is, for him, the god he hopes will one day pay attention to him. It’s also not lost on the mind, while also being entirely cheekily Matt Johnson, that Tony, who never wrote that great coming-of-age story, as a movie, turns out to be a terrific take on one. For as irritating as the character is, there is also something irresistibly charming about him, allowing the inevitable redemption, confessions, and selfless acts to feel earned narratively and emotionally. Nothing less should be expected from the creator of Nirvanna; Tony has the same ingredients, making a recipe for success
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
